


A life well lived

by Caoilainn



Category: White Collar
Genre: Gen, Slight spoilers for s01 s04 and s05, Spoilers for s05ep10 Live feed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-20
Updated: 2019-05-20
Packaged: 2020-03-08 16:03:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,905
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18897991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caoilainn/pseuds/Caoilainn
Summary: Neal’s had enough! Enough of Peter, of the FBI and of everyone else out to use him.





	A life well lived

  _We must be willing to get rid of the life we’ve planned so as to have the life that is waiting for us_

_Joseph Campbell_

 

Heavy steps on the stairs woke Mozzie up. At first he just stared at the ceiling and pushed down that nauseous feeling of being hung over. The fact that he was laying on Neal's couch registered at the same time that the man in question harshly pushed the door to the rooftop apartment open and then swung it shut none to gently behind him.

Neal stood with his back to the living room area so at first Mozzie could only see the other man's tense back and how he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration. From tiny changes in Neal’s body language, practically invisible to anyone other than Moz, the older man also saw the moment his friend became aware of another presence in the room. Habits formed after close to a lifetime of being a con artist kicked in, creating a mask of bland pleasantness as Neal spun around. The younger man was a master con but after years of knowing him, as well as being someone who had helped making him who and what he was today, Moz could easily see the cracks in the façade. 

As Neal spotted his best friend, once again on the couch with a bottle of wine on the coffee table, the mask slide off completely. Moz knew than he was one of the very few people to have Neal's trust this way. In fact, the older man suspected that Ellen Parker had been the only one other than himself to have been entrusted with that gift. It said a lot that even Kate sometimes had had a hard time getting past Neal's masks, and he had never let them drop as easy as this for her.

Right now, the man behind the pleasant façade was frustrated and tired. He just looked at Moz quietly, his body tense, as if he either wanted to avoid saying anything at all or had so much to say that he simply didn't know where to start.

Deciding that it couldn't hurt with some fortifications Moz got up from the couch and went over to the kitchenette to fetch another glass. As Neal sank down in one of the armchairs Mozzie took the liberty of pouring each of them a glass full of dark red wine. Placing one of the glasses in front of his friend, and the bottle on the table between them, Moz silently sat down on the couch again.

Now he just had to wait Neal out because he knew that his friend would open up eventually. Neal had always been at his best when he had a partner to work with and bounce ideas off of, it usually grounded him and reined back some of the more outlandish plans. Moz knew however that in the past this had sometimes worked out to Neal’s disadvantage when he had gotten betrayed by people he had considered partners in crime. As for himself Mozzie knew that Neal was aware of the fact that he only held loyalty, love and affection for the younger con. 

After finishing his wine in one go Neal poured himself another glass and drank some of it before he seemed to be able to find the words he was looking for. Keeping his eyes trained on the glass he cradled in both hands he began to speak.

“I know I said that New York is home and that I didn't want to leave but right now I'm so god damned sick of the people in this town.” Neal paused and looked up at his friend with a quick smirk. “Present company and June excluded of course.” Then his face turned dark again “In fact, I could gladly leave and never come back. I'm sick of being used to steal stuff by people too stupid or too cowardly to managed it themselves! I'm sick of the FBI! They will probably never let me go and will most likely constantly harass me if I lived here as a free man. I'm also sick of the damn Burkes and them going on about how I can't be trusted and that I let them down and how I bring trouble and danger into their little apple pie life!” Neal laughed a harsh derisive laugh.

“Because being an FBI agent, or being married to one, never brings its own danger, right?!” Taking a deep breath he finished “I’m not trying to cause trouble for them! Most often it finds me.”

A long silence followed that statement. There wasn’t really anything Mozzie could add to that so he just sipped his vine and watched as the younger man suddenly got up. Neal disappeared through the side door leading to the bathroom and dressing room, putting his vine glass down on the dinner table as he went. Guessing that his friend needed his usual outlet and therefor was changing into the clothes he used when painting Moz let him be.

Neal had, for some unimaginable reason wanted to befriend the Suit and Mozzie knew that when Neal considered you a friend his loyalty could be close to unconditional. At least until such a time when either something major happened, or the foundation of the friendship just corroded, and made Neal question the perception he had of said friend.

Neal didn't always make smart decisions unfortunately, despite his obvious intelligence. It was one of the areas where Mozzie and Neal differed a lot, but also complemented each other. The problem was that during the time they had been apart and Neal had been chased around the world by the Suit the young con had decided that risk being put in prison was worth the chance of seeing Kate again, and he had subsequently willingly walked into the fed’s trap. Neal had then spent four years in prison for a manipulative girl who's only concern was for herself.

His ill-timed escape, again because of Kate, had then earned him another four years behind walls! A decision so stupid and impulsive that Mozzie had wished he could shake some sense into his idiotic friend! The deal the younger man had then made with the FBI regarding the anklet was once again Neal making another whimsical decision that he wanted to spend some time playing agent instead of working on a new break-out plan or using the deal with the anklet as a way to escape. 

Mozzie knew that as a kid Neal had wanted to become a cop just like his _heroic_ father. Even if Moz himself hadn’t been a criminal with a low opinion of the profession in question he still would have thought that Neal would have made a pretty lousy cop. At the very least a pretty lackadaisical one considering the younger man’s innate lack of impulse control, how he chafed under rules and restrictions as well as his need for constant stimulation. Neal would have been bored to tears with the reality of operating fully on the  _right_ side of the law, not just on the fence like he was now.

Mozzie thought it was likely that if Neal had stuck with it all the way through the police academy he could very well have ended up as a dirty cop. Not that Mozz would ever tell Neal that. It wouldn’t necessarily have been because of greed but because Neal was constantly looking for excitement and his innate character was that of a lawbreaker, someone who no just pushed but bent or broke the boundaries.  

Mozzie's distrust and hate of the governmental forces may have lightened somewhat, at least pertaining to Neal’s team, and a part of him shuddered when thinking of the suits in such a way. However, Moz had always been of the opinion that Neal was born to be a con, a forger and a thief. The younger man was simply too good at it to let his natural talents waste away!

Neal had his issues though and they were a major reason as to why he had more or less stayed with the suits these last few years. Moz had been against his friendsticking with the deal from the start but he had quickly realized that unless he wanted to once again keep his distance from Neal for a another four years then he would have to accept it. And considering how much of a trouble-magnet Neal could be Mozzie wasn't about to let the younger man out of his sight. Not again.

In all honesty though, the information on FBI procedures and methods that Neal had learnt since the Suit got him out of prison would be hugely helpful in keeping several steps ahead of the suit army should the opportunity arise. Neal had also got his hand on lots of information they could sell. The danger was of course that the Suit was also learning things about Neal, and Mozzie unfortunately, that he could use to try and catch them if they ever were to run again.

At least Neal was smart and skilled enough that he could muddy the waters without anyone noticing his long con, even with the suits knowing what he really was, because there was no question about it in Mozzie’s mind that Neal was the best con man he had ever worked with. And being as playful as the younger man was he loved to use cons to constantly trick, deceive, tease and generally cause mischief for those around him. It was very likely that he had given them false information or had managed to enter fabricated facts into their database.

Leaving those thoughts behind Mozzie rose from the couch and moved to stand in front of the ever present easel and the painting-in-progress displayed there. He may not be an artist himself but he had seen enough forgeries being made, most often by Neal, to get an idea of which work was being forged.  

Hearing Neal come up behind him he moved to the side so that he could see his friend as well as the painting.

”[The Ninth Wave](https://www.wikiart.org/en/ivan-aivazovsky/the-ninth-wave-1850-1)? That’s a classic. A bit smaller than the original though so I guess it technically counts as more of a copy rather than a forgery?” 

Neal mock-frowned at him. ”You think I should have done an actual forgery of it? Then you would have had to help me get a helicopter or a lift to get the canvas up to the balcony and then bring it in and out that way. An 87 by 131-inch canvas isn’t something you can just tuck under your arm and carry up the stairs.” He then smiled. “No, a copy ¼th the real size will have to do. This time.”

”True, and I guess the Suit has already shown that he rarely listens to reasonable explanations in situations like that”  
  
”Situations where it would look like I’m forging Ivan Aivazovsky’s most famous painting? Yeah, he’s very rigid that way.”

Watching as Neal picked up a slender brush and began to apply indigo paint Mozzie added “So the enormous wave threatening the shipwrecked men clinging to a cross shaped piece of debris thought to represent salvation from earthly sin... Is the choice of painting perchance a symbol of your relationship with the Suit? Your true self is the wave about to overtake the law-abiding life he tries to make you live?”

”Nice armchair psychology Moz. Yeah, you might not be far off. At least I don’t have to deal with the fallout of Peter made the same interpretation. Symbolism in art is not in his skillset and he lacks the imagination. No, _The Ninth Wave_ felt like a good compromise since I first thought about doing [The Battle of Cesme at Night](https://www.wikiart.org/en/ivan-aivazovsky/battle-of-cesme-at-night-1848).”

Chuckling Moz nodded. “Yes, even the Suit would probably have picked up the vibes if you started forging, or copying, paintings in black and red depicting burning battleships”. He continued in a more serious tone of voice. ”You want out bad, huh?”

Letting his right-hand fall to his side, unconcerned about the brush staining his pant leg, Neal sighed. ”I do. I really do. I mean, I’m not sure how I imagined that the end of the anklet-deal would turn out…and yeah, I know you think I made an impulsive decision. I think, back when it started, that I was just so tired of running and I didn’t want to go back to prison. This seemed like a good opportunity, and it has been, only now I’m not sure I’ll really be free even when the anklet is off”

Moz frowned at his friend. ”What do you mean?” 

”The kind of freedom I want does not include Peter and the FBI keeping tabs on me, and you know that they’ll look to me as soon as a crime is committed in this area that resembles the ones I’ve done. If they’re satisfied that I didn’t do whatever it was then they would push me to help them solve the case. They would probably try to get me to do more work for them, and I don’t know what leverage they would use. Besides, I have no problem admitting that I’m scared that they’ll do what Kramer intended to do and put me on an anklet again, maybe even for life, for some crime I may or may not have actually committed” Neal said. Anger and frustration was obvious in his voice.

“These years on the anklet has shown me time and again that I'm was a fool right from the start. For example, remember how I told you about the boiler room scam that first year on the anklet? Peter and me, alone out in the country with a bunch of guys with fire arms and Peter suddenly decided to change the whole plan and hung me out to dry as a corporate spy! I managed to talk my way out of it but what the hell was he planning do if they decided to just shoot me right then and there?! And the FBI _hoped_ their little gadget would hold enough air for me if I got trapped in a room equipped to suck out all oxygen?! Peter said nothing about it afterwards. I was expendable. Just another day on the anklet. And he knew how I looked for Kate but he decided to meet with her without even telling me. All the while I was worried as hell about her safety! He never even offered to put me in contact with her, or send a message to her through him!”

Kate was the one area where Mozzie and the Suit tended to agree. She hadn’t been right for Neal and she had used him badly. Moz had kept quiet about it up until now though. He had helped his friend trying to find her and later helped Neal make sense of the woman’s death. But maybe it was time to just clear the air when it came to the girlfriend who had had such an impact on his best friend’s life. If nothing else it might distract Neal from going through a blow by blow account of over three years working with the Suit.

 “Neal, I never liked Kate, and maybe... that could possibly… might have been-“ Saying the words was proving to be more difficult than Mozzie had expected.

“Moz, come on” Neal encouraged.

“-because of jealousy ok? It's a ridiculous notion but there you have it. It was hard seeing you so obsessed with her, both before and after you got out of prison, but let's face it; she was a much better friend to you while you were locked up than I was. I realize that it may have seemed like I didn't care and just went about my business as usual but I really missed you you know? You're mon frère!” Finally getting the words out there Mozzie then took a large gulp from his wine glass, finishing it off and then filling it up right away in order to keep busy.

“It's ok Moz. I'm not gonna lie, those four years where long and lonely but I never though you didn't care or that you had abandoned me. I knew that you were the one who organized protection money and kept me from being fair game for every prisoner in my block, remember? As for Kate...it's still a sore subject to think about but the years that passed since she died has given me some… perspective I guess. I realize that she may not have loved me as much as I loved her. It's not like I had any idea how a healthy adult relationship looked like before I got to know Peter and El, and now I think that maybe I was more in love with the _idea_ of being in love with Kate. When I was a kid I watched my mother constantly bring home new men and it made me want to find…the one true love I guess. Stupid of me.” The wry wistfulness in Neal’s voice was obvious and when Mozzie looked up the younger man had a small sad smile on his lips. 

“I guess the same thing might be true when it comes to Rebecca as well. I think I was more taken by the possibility of having found true love than by Rebecca herself. And it probably helped that the psycho tailored herself to be my perfect girlfriend. I wanted to think that she was different from my previous lovers but some part of me felt that something was off about her. You know, might be right Moz.”

“Of course I am. About what?” 

“There’s no happy endings for guys like us” 

“Ah, but Neal... Well, maybe not in love but we have managed some fantastic scores and heists!”

”Now that is true!” Neal agreed with a smile. Putting down his paintbrush Neal lifted his vine glass from the table and let it _clink_ against Mozzie’s. “And while our version of the dark side doesn’t have cookies at least it has wine”

“I’ll drink to that!” Mozzie toasted with a smile.

Emptying his glass Neal filled it with the last of the wine from the bottle, and then went and got a new bottle before Moz could protest. The smirk on Neal’s face clearly said that he knew his friend as he handed the other man the bottle and a corkscrew. Then his face turned serious again. 

“The thing about Peter…Yes, he's done a lot for me but haven't our debts to each other canceled themselves out? On one hand El got kidnapped because of the Nazi treasure we took but on the other Peter acted like a complete idiot and almost got us killed leading Collins to Cape Verde. And it ended up with me in FBI custody again. With a gunshot wound”

Mozzie nodded “I agree. Helping to save you from Collins and Hobbs, or rather MacLeish, doesn't count because Collins would probably never have come there, and involved MacLeish, without the Suit's notes. “ 

Neal continued. “What’s more, on one hand Peter's kept quiet about a lot of our illegalities that he could have used as a reason to have me locked up again, but on the other hand we got him out of what would have been a lifetime in prison, depending on how long he would have survived in there. But because he so naïvely believes in truth and justice he thinks he would have been cleared anyway. The _right_ way. Because it's not like we don't know that the system is full of corrupt cops, judges, senators etcetera, right?” he said mockingly.

“I think Peter and I both have been deluding ourselves all this time. He will never let go of his childish views of right and wrong and because of that I don’t think I’ll ever truly be anything other than a criminal to him, not really. I, on the other hand, had hoped Peter would let me be who I am and not constantly want to change me. You know, I told James once that Peter had been more of a father to me than he had ever been, but that's not really a ringing endorsement, is it? Doesn't take much to be better than a dirty cop who killed two people and who was only present in my life for a few years up to when I was a toddler. And who then walked right out the door never to be heard from again, hopefully. Am I losing my touch Moz? Both James and Rebecca conned me pretty thoroughly”.

Mozzie shook his head. “I think it was more the case of you maybe listening too much to those around you instead of trusting your instincts. You were suspicious of James but both the Suit, and regretfully I, encouraged you to accept him. And pretty much the same thing happened with Rebecca. I don't think you lost your touch but you may have temporarily been swayed by people around you. You have never been very trusting, which is only healthy, but deep down you might have wanted a father as well as a girlfriend so you were more inclined to follow the advice you got from us. Besides, I too was fooled by them both.”

The both stayed silent for a while until Neal spoke once more.

“You know… that case where we helped out June and her granddaughter...” 

Mozzie laughed “Ah, yes. Hard to forget an organ-donating organization called ‘Hearts wide open’.”

Smiling a little Neal then turned serious. “When I got caught, after the staff had drugged me and Peter came to get me out, I remember telling Peter that I trusted him. I guess I'm fortunate we didn't talk about that this last time I was drugged because it's not really true anymore. Peter might be honorable and one of the good guys in law enforcement, but I can't trust him to really listen to me and to realize that his way isn't always the right way. I can't trust him not to burn me if it really comes down to it, intentionally or otherwise. I heard him you know, through the microphone when we were in the church with Hagen. Jones offered to take over as my handler after Peter left for D.C and Peter told him not to do it. He said that Jones would come to regret it. And Peter knows full well that without a handler they'll send me back to prison the moment he leave the city. Not that he seemed to care”.

“You may have had a _good_ relationship with Suit and the suits in the Suit’s team” Mozzie added. “But don’t forget that the FBI have been yanking you around for almost seven years now. They had you in a cage and then they got you on a leash, and the whole time they’ve been trying to get you to heel”

Neal frowned with distaste “Moz, please use other terms. You make it sound like I’m either a pet or in a BDSM scene”.

“None the less mon frère! You have been so close to freedom several times just to have the noose tighten around your throat at the last second.” Moz gestured excitedly towards his own throat, vine almost spilling over in the glass he held on to.

“And now it sounds like I’ve been to the gallows.”

“Neal!”

Picking up the paint brush and turning back to the painting once more Neal sighed “Okay! Yeah, I know... It’s actually been a good life lesson if you think about it, _Subjugation and Humiliation - how to handle it”._

“Yes, I can see a brilliant career ahead of you as an author” Mozzie responded, sarcasm heavy in his voice. “But Neal…and know that I’m notsaying this to hurt you, but I think that if you took a few steps back you would see your relationship with the Suit with a little more clarity. And I’m not saying it just because I’ve always been leery about your close proximity to the governmental drones of evil”.

“Yeah. I’ve thought the same thing. So, as a… somewhat objective observer, what do you see?”

“Well, to start with your relationship with the Suit looks mostly positive up close. Your roles shift a lot, at times its familial and sometimes its friendship. You’re completely different people from different backgrounds but you choose to stick together and do have each other’s backs…most of the time”.

“Okay Dr. Moz, or Madame Moz, what else can you tell me?”

Warming to the subject Mozzie spoke enthusiastically. “Well, it looks a little different if you take several steps back. Just listen; at first you suspected that he was the one who had Kate and he was suspicious, partly because frankly you’re a talented criminal, and partly because he knew how focused you were on finding Kate. Then, after the…the plane, it was the music box. Both of you were suspicious of each other the entire time up until I figured out the code. _Who has the box? What do they know? What will they do?_ and so on. Then the Suit suspected that you stole the art that supposedly blew up, sorry…again, and once more it was a _who-knows-what, what-do-they-know_ and _who-else-knows_ game between us and the drone army.”

Pausing, and catching some air after having rambled on non-stop, Mozzie continued. “He did help you evade Darth Suit but then he led the Sith Suit right to us! And after we came back from Cape Verde there was Ellen…as well as James a.k.a Sam and his secrets, again _who-knows-what, what-do-they-know_ and _who-else-knows_ between our two camps. And after we got the Suit out of jail, which I’m not sure he ever thanked us properly for, he brings in a new handler from the outside! A complete stranger! Because the Suit suspects that you’re using him by making it hard for him to be _objective_? Ha! After everything you’ve done for them! And you said that he warned Suit Jr. not to step into the Suit’s role, despite knowing what would happen to someone in your situation if there was no one willing to take over as your handler. By that time, I think you both had been distancing yourselves from each other for quite a while. And now you, my friend, are at a point when you remembered once more who you truly are and that cutting ties completely with the Suit is the best option for you. For us.” 

Giving Neal room to speak Mozzie finished his vine and poured some more.

“I agree with you. I knew, but I guess I never wanted to look too hard at the reality of it” Neal said “Peter and I do like each other and we’ve had some fun times…but… The mistrust where alwaysthere. It wasn’t even something triggered by specific events, that’s just when it became the most obvious”

”So what are you saying?”

”I think it’s time for me to pick out a new name. It's been a good run but this identity has become too troublesome. Too many people on both sides of the law knows how to find me and I’m tired of it. ‘Neal George Caffrey’ has outlived his usefulness, it’s time to move on” 

” _Starting over is an acceptance of a past we can’t change, an unrelenting conviction that the future can be different, and the stubborn wisdom to use the past to make the future what the past was not -_ Craig D. Lounsbrough” Mozzie quoted.

“Fitting” Neal said. “As soon as we can get away clear I want to do it. But I don't think just leaving will work again since it was thanks to Peter’s complete inability to let me live my life outside of his supervision that drove him to figure out that we were on Cape Verde.”

Smirking Neal went on “Peter has only ever caught me with a bit of luck and some deduction skills. The first time he realized he could use Kate to lure me into a trap, but it was a trap I was already aware of and let myself be caught in. The second time he realized that I ran because of Kate and he knew where she lived so of course he knew where to look for me. The third time he never would have found me without Ellen's pager and the fact that he was lucky enough to hear thunder, waves and the church bell in the background! Diana, Jones and the FBI's resources did the rest. If I have no contact with him, or any one else that could bring trouble, and actually keep a low profile he shouldn’t be able to do it again-” Suddenly looking like he had an epiphany Neal continued. “Especially if we make him, make all of them, think I'm dead... Yeah! Let's do that.”

A smile slowly grew on Mozzie’s face. “A literal as well as a symbolical burial of Neal Caffrey, I like it. Oh! Let’s not forget the printing plate in June’s table when we leave!”

Laughing Neal once more toasted his friend. “To a life well lived”

 

 


End file.
